Saving Grace
by Aragorn75
Summary: “How long has it been?” a soft voice asked from the cove of the balcony..."One year since he left us"..."Change was inevitable"..."Guilt was a long journey to take that was not easily abandoned." Sequel to A Friend's Sacrifice
1. A Year Later

Disclaimer: I still don't own it. If I did, let's just say, life would be a lot different.

A/N: Thank you to everyone's reviews and encouragements. I have decided to write a sequel because of the many requests. I also thought the story needed more closure. For those who did not read A Friend's Sacrifice, I encourage you to do so as this will not make sense. I know one reviewer was confused by the ending of the last story, so that leads me to believe that others were as well so I shall explain. Elrond went back to Legolas' room after Aragorn left. He watched his son leave from the balcony. When he went back inside to dress Legolas' wounds, he saw a tear running down his cheek. That was the sliver of hope that Legolas was still alive…and he heard Aragorn's little goodbye speech. Enjoy the first chapter! Tell me what you think!

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"How long has it been?" a soft voice asked from the cove of the balcony. Rivendell was the same peaceful haven, changing little over time. The sights were as breathtaking as ever. The waterfall thundered beyond, creating a vibrant rainbow in the wake of its foamy remains. All was green and blooming, ready to accept the touch of warmth that accompanied the spring. The animals that sheltered in the surrounding wood were quick to enjoy the coming season bringing a life back to the once cold world. For any onlooker, this was paradise found, but for those in the Last Homely House, this was a cruel reminder of something missing.

"It's been one year since he left us." Elrond walked into the empty room holding a pile of bandages and salves. Knowing where his patient retreated, he walked out onto the balcony and placed a hand over the pale one that gripped the railing tightly.

"You know why he did it," he whispered. The elf nodded in understanding closing his eyes and allowing the morning sun to caress his face. "Legolas…" Elrond trailed off. This seemed to snap the blond one out of his trance.

"I am fine, my lord. Please forgive me. You have been so gracious since my injury, allowing me to stay here until I am fully healed. It was never my intention to allow my mood to affect those around me." It was always the same conversation it seemed as the elder elf sighed. Ever since Aragorn left home, nothing had ever been the same. _Change was inevitable_, he thought sadly.

"Legolas…please refrain from the formalities. You know you are welcome always," Elrond commented as he led the elf inside.

Sitting carefully on the green embroidered bed, Legolas could not meet the older elf's eyes. He stared at his hands a moment; a question he so desperately wanted to ask seemed to taunt his mind. Elrond sensed this as he took Legolas' hands in his own and sat down beside him.

"What troubles you so? You know your feelings have not influenced us as much as you believe. Elladan and Elrohir have not been the same since that dreadful afternoon. But it's not your fault." Legolas just shook his head.

"It's not that." Seeing Elrond's pointed gaze, he smiled sadly. "Okay, maybe not just that. When I was…unconscious, how much did Est--…everyone suffer because of me?" Elrond knew what the elf meant and his apparent slip made him understand the deep pain that the elf must be feeling, missing his friend. The question was not a surprising one though he wondered why Legolas had not voiced it sooner.

"It was hard," the elf lord admitted softly. "We thought we were going to surely lose you forever. Elladan and Elrohir no longer joked, smiles faded quickly as the full reality of the situation reached their minds. I spent many a sleepless night, trying to keep you tied to this world, if not for your sake then for ours. Estel...It broke his heart. He carried a heavy burden of guilt that wore on him for weeks until finally it became too much. You know he loved you as a brother. He only left because he couldn't stand to face the loss, to face you even should you live. He was afraid of what you'd say…or what you never would should you die."

Elrond couldn't say more…or rather didn't want to speak more. His mind was trapped in the memories, reliving those awful days that seemed like a bad dream he once had. It was not until he saw the shoulders shake beside him and tears fall down pale, pristine cheeks, that he turned to speak once more.

"Oh, Legolas, child of my heart," he soothed, "please do not cry. We love you as family and our past bears nothing on the happiness of the present."

"B-but it's all m-my fault," he stuttered, the tears falling faster. "I hurt you. I h-hurt your family. I h-hurt E-Estel. I only wanted to save him."

"You already did and you have many times over."

Elrond wrapped his arms around the despairing elf and murmured words of comfort, allowing him this time to let go. It had been a year since everything happened. In all that time, never once did the elf speak of the day he saved Aragorn. Nor did he inquire as to the mental states of those around him. He merely locked the time away in the far reaches of his mind hoping to escape through denial. One long year had passed, and finally Legolas was releasing all of the emotions that he so tirelessly kept hidden from the world. Waking up from a lengthy coma to find that everything he heard while unconscious was not dream, had taken its toll. Aragorn leaving was the final straw and from that well of grief, Legolas woke up to an even dimmer world than the one he left. Elrond and his sons tried to keep their spirits up if only to ease the young elf's mind, but just like his friend, guilt was a long journey to take that was not easily abandoned.

"Come now, tithen pen. The world is not over. Wounds heal with time. All will be well again. You'll see." But the words of comfort fell on deaf ears as the blonde elf shook his head furiously.

"No, Lord Elrond. I don't think it will be this time. I am…broken. Broken in ways I did not think possible. My heart is aching…yearning to sa—" Legolas could not finish the sentence as his voice cracked. But Elrond understood. He saw it in his eyes-- that same despair that penetrated the very innocence of the soul. He saw it in his wife's eyes those long years ago. Fresh pain washed over him as the realization hit him. This was what Aragorn feared more than death itself. He feared the chance that Legolas would live for it only meant that he would lose him once more. But Elrond knew he had to be strong. After all, he had prepared himself for this possibility, long before any of this happened. With two people as danger-prone as Aragorn and Legolas, such worse-case scenarios were hard to ignore.

"Shhhh, young prince. It's alright. I understand more than you know. If you cannot find peace here, then I will gladly set you free to sail to the distant shores. But please, I know I have no right, but I must ask you to do something for me…" Legolas nodded as he wiped his swollen eyes. "Please, wait a month at least. Allow me the chance to find my son. Despite his fears, you know Estel would never be able to live with himself should he lose you completely without saying goodbye."

Elrond's request was soft spoken and he wondered in his mind if his plea was more a comfort for himself and his family than it was for Aragorn. In either case, the loss would be great. Legolas did not readily deny the request to which Elrond sighed in relief.

"But I heard Estel say his goodbyes…the day that he left. I was unconscious, but his voice reached me. He already thinks I am gone."

"I am not sure that he ever believed you had gone forever. There was always that small sliver of hope that lived inside his heart. That little piece is what tormented him so for he could never truly accept it. And I fear that his leaving has done more harm than good. To both of you. If he knew you were alive, nothing would stop him from returning. Never doubt that." Elrond grabbed the young elf's chin, piercing eyes seeking understanding in the tired ones. Legolas could only nod. "Good. Then it is settled. Until then, I plan to make sure your time here is as pleasant as ever. You'll have your favorite breakfast, time on the archery field, the taste of my special teas for healing…" Elrond smiled at the familiar sound of Legolas' chuckle at his last words. Though the happiness did not reach his eyes, it was a start. "Come now, young one, it's time to dress your wounds and have some morning breakfast. Then I shall have Elladan and Elrohir spend the day making you smile again. It's been a while since we've heard your laughter." _And Estel's_, he added silently to himself. His mind drifted to his son. _Where in Arda could he be?_

_

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_

"Kill them!" snarled a voice from across the clearing. From the surrounding woods emerged two dozen orcs, probably leaving the site of another bloody attack. They had been roaming the area, killing as they went, with nothing alive in their wake. But the rangers were ready.

Bows strung, a few men from the cover of the trees let loose arrows, trying to eliminate orcs and kill them before they could advance. The rest of the men stood in the center of it all, awaiting the onslaught that was sure to come. Swords drawn and tension high, the first wave of the vile creatures reached them. Then all hell broke loose.

Slash after slash, parry after parry, the small battle raged, turning the green fresh grass to red and black. Footprints stamped the dirt and the once open field was a mess of swords, men, and orcs.

The leader walked forward, a cruel blade in his hand. He came from the rear, their secret weapon no doubt. He sneered as he swiped his hand in a single motion sending one young ranger flying through the air only to land on the ground with a sickening crack. He snarled and spit as he killed and injured. Only one man moved forward to destroy the evil creature.

"Strider, no!" yelled a man from a few yards away. He was already engaged in battle with a particularly stubborn orc. But Aragorn ignored him. With sword in hand and muscles tense, he prepared himself for what was to come.

"Try fighting someone your own size," Aragorn yelled, drawing the orc's attention away from a crippled man beneath him.

The leader turned, enraged by the intrusion and without a second's delay, he stabbed at his new adversary. Aragorn jumped out of the way just in time for the blade to strike the air where his right shoulder had been. Another blow fell, but this time he reached up his sword to block him. The orc was undeniably strong, and the man's arms shook slightly under the weight of the attack. A black fist came out of nowhere and slammed into the side of Aragorn's head, sending him crashing to the ground like a pound of iron.

He shook his head a few times to clear it but his vision was blurred and the world spun around him. Out of the haze he could make out the shape of a shadow before him, growing in considerable in size. Realizing the situation, he scrambled backwards in time for the orc to slam his sword into the soft earth. Picking up his own sword that lay nearby, Aragorn made his way awkwardly to his feet, barely keeping his balance. He made out the muddled picture of the orc trying to remove his heavy blade from the ground that seemed to hold it in its grasp. Taking the opportunity to end the battle quickly, Aragorn swung his sword at the shape, lopping off the angry orc's head.

Breathing hard, his strength leaving him, he fell to one knee. A hand on his shoulder startled him. Aragorn would have fallen sideways if not for that same hand holding him up. It was then that he heard a concerned voice speaking to him in soft tones.

"Strider, Strider? Can you hear me? Are you alright?" With bleary eyes, he turned to the voice and shook his head once more. He'd know that gruff tone anywhere, even in his concussed state.

"Halbarad?" he rasped. Slowly his vision cleared and he saw a smile grace his friend's face.

"Finally, the valiant one speaks." His tone was sarcastic. "What were you thinking, my reckless friend, challenging an orc twice your size? Elrond would not be happy."

Aragorn winced. Halbarad's innocent comment brought back painful memories that he had tried so hard to forget. His chest ached with the thoughts of his father, his brothers, his home, Leg…No, he wouldn't think about him. As far as he was concerned that chapter of his life was over. There was nothing left for him anymore. The past was the past and he had buried it the moment he left Rivendell.

But Aragorn knew he was lying to himself. No matter how much he tried to forget, something, anything would bring those memories to the surface. A year…One long year and still the grief had not subsided. An ever growing doubt gnawed at him; he felt something in his heart was missing-- closure perhaps or the desire to know the true fate of his friend. He tried to tell himself that Legolas was gone, that he would never see him in this life, but he didn't really know. But he also couldn't go back…not now…not after everything that happened. Aragorn sighed aloud.

"Come, my friend. It is time we return to camp so I can look at that head of yours. After all these years, you think you would know when to admit defeat."

Halbarad pulled him to his feet. Aragorn leaned heavily on his friend's shoulder, finding his legs heavy and unwilling to keep him steady. He groaned at the pain of each step that seemed to coincide with the pounding in his head. He put a hand to his temple only to notice for the first time the wet stickiness that waited there. As if the blood were a warning signal, Aragorn soon began to notice the rapid beat of his heart and the cold sweat that covered his body.

"Hal—Hal," Aragorn's voice died on his lips as he finally succumbed to the darkness. The last thought on his mind was Legolas, wishing he was still there.

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Please Review! Tell me what you think; )


	2. Breaking Down

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Thank you silent_ranger_savior, crism1976, WaterOpalFireOpal, and ObiBettina7 for your awesome reviews. I also thank the people still reading my stories despite my long absence. I am really sorry for not updating, but last semester was a nightmare that would not end. I have never had so much work to do in my life. Then I was in Greece for two weeks over winter break for one of my classes and then I just went back to school for the next semester. So, finding time to write has not been easy. In any case, I hope this chapter is satisfying enough to hold your attention for a bit longer. Enjoy!

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_You abandoned me…_

_ NO!_

_ You left me to die alone…_

_ I didn't!_

_ Where were you…_

_ I was there!_

_ You shame my sacrifice…_

_ I'm sorry!_

_ It's your fault…_

_ I know………_

"Legolas!" Aragorn yelled at the top of his lungs. He was gasping for air as though he had run ten miles. He thought his heart would explode from the speed that it raced. He immediately sat up, regretting the action. The tent spun at an alarming rate. Aragorn closed his eyes to ward off the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. He started to panic until a soothing voice broke through his confusion.

"Calm down, Strider. You're alright now. We're at the camp. Breathe." The string of comforts settled his nerves as he allowed the hands to lay him back down on his makeshift bed. It took a few moments for him to come back to himself, trying to ignore the icy chill that ran down his spine, the last remnants of his nightmare.

"Easy now, Strider, just breathe. You passed out on the way back to camp. It's morning now. You've only been out half a day," Halbarad said, grounding his friend in reality. "You had a nasty concussion. How are you feeling?"

Aragorn coughed harshly before managing a reply.

"I feel like my head has been stomped on by an Oliphant. Any more challenging questions?" Halbarad chuckled at that.

"It looks like I worried for nothing. If you can find humor in my concern then you are well on your way to recovery."

Aragorn smiled, though it came out more of a wince. Halbarad noticed, but didn't comment. The man was injured more often than not, and the outcome would always remain the same. No use trying to put rain water back into a cloud. Aragorn would never listen to any concerns that involved pinpointing a weakness due to injury. But Halbarad did wonder if it was more than that. He learned a little of what happened in Rivendell, and whenever the subject was breached, Aragorn would get a distant look in his eyes and refuse to say more about it. He knew his friend well enough to know when he was trying to hide pain, whether physically or mentally. Now, Halbarad decided that it was time to come clean. Aragorn's behavior during the previous battle was that of a man looking for trouble. Aragorn never needed any help finding it. Things seemed to be much different now.

Aragorn saw his friend's worry and became uncomfortable in the silence. Knowing that the man was probably thinking of new ways to get him to talk about the past, he decided to try and escape. Determination and smooth talking usually got him out of situations like this. Even Elro—He couldn't even think his name. Swallowing at the sudden wave of sadness, Aragorn moved to leave the tent again.

"Not so fast, my friend," Halbarad said gathering his thoughts and breaking the silence. Aragorn cursed to himself and still tried to leave. It was happening again. The flashbacks were returning and the guilt from his dream was crushing him. He could hardly breathe. He had to escape.

"Strider, stop!" Halbarad fought to keep him still, but Aragorn found a new strength not expected in a concussed man.

He pulled out of his companion's grasp and stood up quickly. Dizziness took over, but he continued to stagger out of the tent. He pushed past confused faces of his fellow rangers and hobbled out of camp through the trees and into the forest. He ignored calls and yells to stop as his mind filled with voices of the past, ghosts of a world he used to know. Aragorn was coming apart at the seams, and it was happening more and more often these days. Before, he was more adept at escaping without notice, but he was starting to lose his control. He thought that if he forgot about what happened, left his home, and blocked out any memory of the people he loved, he'd be able to live his life without anguish. He would be empty inside, but less pained. But dreams and memories broke through the cracks. No man could hold back the tide. Denial was getting him nowhere and Aragorn knew it.

When he felt that he was far enough away, he knelt down on the ground and held his head in his hands as though it were going to explode. His breathing came in gasps and he fought so hard to maintain control. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut keeping the tears at bay as he tried to regain some composure. Aragorn rocked back and forth for a few moments until he stood up amidst the trees. The guilt and sadness were eating away at him, but he refused to lose control. He was not weak. He chose this life and he would accept it. The emotions were becoming too much. He needed to release them somehow. Aragorn turned to a large tree beside him and drove his fist into its trunk over and over again until his hand bled and the knuckles tore open. Broken fingers and cuts and scrapes distracted him from what he'd lost.

When the pain in his hand was throbbing enough to quell his inner turmoil, Aragorn stopped and let his arm fall to his side. He slowed his breathing as he worked to control his new physical pains. When the overwhelming grief had finally faded to a dull ache, he looked down at the damage.

Three fingers were surely broken. Blood was running down his fingers and bruising was already beginning to occur from his knuckles to his wrist. Tears pricked his eyes as he tried to flex the mangled appendage. He closed his eyes in defeat when a frantic voice was coming closer that would bear witness to his new outlet for his emotions. Aragorn knew that a serious talk was inevitable.

"Strider? Strider!" Halbarad was coming closer, and Aragorn did nothing to hide his hand or his pain. He turned around as he no longer had the strength to avoid his friend any longer.

"Strider? What in Arda's name is wrong with you? You should not be running around so soon after—" The words died on Halbarad's lips as his eyes moved from his friend's pained gaze to his broken hand cradled at his stomach. His mouth moved to speak, but no words would form. He was speechless. It took a moment for him to regain his composure, not sure whether to strangle the man for being so reckless or soothe the man with words of comfort.

"Come, my friend," Halbarad said softly. He could tell that Aragorn was not ready for a fight. His friend didn't have the strength for a confrontation, and he knew the wrong word might break him. "Let's tend to that hand, and then you and I need to talk."

Aragorn nodded refusing to speak. He knew the coming conversation was long overdue. He couldn't run anymore. His broken hand had opened his eyes. He saw himself for the first time since he left Rivendell, and the long, dangerous road he was treading became apparent. He had never reacted so badly before. He needed help.

The two friends walked side by side, Halbarad offering his aid whenever Aragorn started to stagger. The silence would remain until the two could talk in private. Then…well, that would be a bridge Aragorn would have to cross when he came to it.

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Elrond sat in his study reading over, or rather staring at, a large volume of medicinal herbs. He was still on the same page, on the same sentence, looking at the same picture. His mind refused to focus on anything besides his son.

Aragorn leaving was one of the hardest things he ever had to endure. It was different than his son departing on a hunting trip. This time, the man left on his own accord, in pain, and completely lost. Elrond was not even sure that he would ever return home…if he remembered the way. Sometimes, people were led astray by their pain. He hoped that the road he took would be there to take him back to his family.

Elrond struggled everyday with whether or not he should send his sons out to find Aragorn to bring him home. He wanted to respect his human son's wishes knowing that some things must be learned on one's own, but without the knowledge that his best friend lived…that was unacceptable. The man was at a crossroads where one path would lead to self-discovery while the other would lead to self-destruction. The debate continued in his mind until he swore to Legolas that he would find him. It was important now more than ever that he bring his son home. If Legolas was going to stay, Aragorn would be the only one to persuade him.

The elf lord was lost in thought when his twin sons walked through the door. They were dressed and ready for a long journey ahead. They wore their long, wool cloaks that flowed behind them as they entered. Their bags were packed and over their shoulders while their bows and quivers rested on the opposing side. They looked ready to take on the adventure of a lifetime, and their newest task may very well have been.

"Ada, we are ready to leave," Elrohir said quietly so as to not startle his father. Elrond looked up slightly surprised but covered it up in seconds.

"Very well. Let us make our way down to the stables."

With that, the elf lord rose and folded his hands behind him. He beckoned his sons to follow as they walked through the halls of Imladris. When they arrived at their destination, Elrond looked around a moment to make sure their conversation was not overheard. The residents of the Elvin city were not aware of Aragorn's reasons for departure. He did not think it their business to divulge such personal information. A select few knew, including Glorfindel and Erestor, but other than that, Aragorn's reasons were his own. Whether he did it for his son's pride or for his own comfort, he made up an excuse of a request from the rangers that required his son's presence. He wanted to make it seem as though the family were not falling apart with each passing day, nor did he want to put any more pressure on Legolas should the residents pity him the loss of his friend. The situation was complicated as was Elrond's solution.

When he was sure that they were alone, Elrond whispered to his sons.

"I need you to find your brother as soon as possible. Track down the rangers first. If I know my son, he'll need to find some way to keep his mind occupied. If he's not there, perhaps Halbarad will be of assistance." The twins looked at each other before turning you their father.

"It should be no trouble finding him, ada. Worry not," Elladan said trying to ease his father's worry, but there was something else in his voice, something that made Elrond uneasy.

"I do not worry about you finding him, ion nin. In his current state, he would not be very concerned with hiding his tracks. He never expected me to have anyone search for him. No, he will be rather easy to find. I do fear, however, that you will not be able to convince him to return."

"But surely the news of Legolas…" Elrohir started.

"May cause him to flee further whether by guilt or denial," Elrond finished.

"Perhaps we should encourage Legolas to come with us. He would surely be able to convince Estel to come home. They need each other now more than ever."

"I thought of that, Elrohir, but I do not want him traveling. His injuries still linger and his mind is very fragile. His heart is aching to leave this world, and I believe that routine and normalcy may help ease his yearning. I must watch him here."

The twins nodded, understanding the need to go with haste. Legolas was safe in Imladris with Elrond to help him. Finding Aragorn was now the top priority.

"We will find him and bring him home," Elladan vowed, "even if I have to drag him home by the arm." The slight edge in his voice made Elrond study his son closely. He looked tired as though he had not slept well in weeks. His emotions seemed to be all over the place in the days since his brother's departure. Elrond wondered if the elder twin held a bit of resentment for his sibling.

"Be gentle with him, Elladan. He is just as fragile as Legolas." The words came out as more of a warning. The elf lord had a growing feeling of dread cloud his mind when looking at his son.

"Don't worry, ada, I'll make sure I'm there for him like he wasn't for Legolas." The pain in Elladan's voice worried Elrond. He had not realized the toll this whole situation had taken on the family. He knew that things were ill at ease in his house, but it did not cross his mind that one of his son's would lack compassion for his brother.

"Elladan, you know why he left. Tell me, what would you have done if it were Elrohir?"

"I would have stayed with him until the very end, whatever it may have been. His selfishness is the reason that Legolas may be leaving forever!"

"Stop!" Elrohir shouted. "Stop arguing! I don't want to listen to this anymore. Elladan, give your brother the courtesy of an explanation."

"Why should I? He could have said something before he left the first time. Instead he ran without saying a word to either of us."

Elladan was making a fist with his hand trying to quell the anger. He had not released his grief since Aragorn had left. He was too busy trying to be strong for everyone else. The small seed of resentment grew steadily into a chasm of disdain that he tried so hard to keep under control. Elrond's words of compassion for his brother only brought it to the surface, begging for release. Elrohir's hand on his made him look into his eyes full of understanding and concern.

"Please, Elladan. Let go of this anger. You love your brother more than anything. Don't let a moment's weakness destroy what you had," the younger twin begged. Elrohir always was calm in a crisis, something Elladan always envied about him.

"He is right, ion nin," Elrond started. "It's okay to be angry. Believe me, I know. I may have ripped up a few books in the time that Estel left. But you have to find the love for him in your heart. We're a family and families are always there for each other."

Elladan nodded slowly but he couldn't seem to make the anger abandon him. It was still there just under the surface, but he would try to keep it from his loved ones. Maybe finding Aragorn would help.

"Alright," he sighed, "I will try my best to see beyond the hurt he has caused by his absence. I will find him if only for Legolas' sake." With that, he left the two alone and climbed onto his horse, riding out to the gate alone. Elrohir and Elrond looked on with worry in their eyes.

"Don't worry, ada. He'll be fine. Once Estel and he have a talk, everything will be alright. You'll see. Elladan's stubborn, just like his brother. It's the human in him." Elrohir tried to be cheerful but it only earned a sad smile from Elrond. Squeezing his father's shoulder comfortingly, Elrohir mounted his horse and rode off after his brother. Elrond stood alone in the stable staring ahead at the empty path.

"I hope you're right, ion nin, for I fear that it may not be as simple as you perceive."


	3. The Truth Hurts

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Thank you, Invisigoth3, Fantasyqueen10, Iccle Fairy, Legolas Thanduilion, and daisymall13! I also thank those who did not give up on this story or have been reading and reviewing some of my other stories. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

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Aragorn was sitting on a bed of warm blankets within the confines of his tent. His elbows rested on his knees while he held his head with his hands. He breathed deep breaths trying to regain some sort of composure knowing full well that his talk with Halbarad would likely break down the barriers he so carefully built within his mind. There were cracks in his defenses and his old friend was going to chip away at each crevice until the dam burst anew. Aragorn shook his head to clear his mind of all negative thoughts and dared to look up at the man he knew would be sitting across from him.

Halbarad was studying him, that much Aragorn could tell, but his emotions were not so easily read in the dim lighting of the tent. His cloak was sprawled out on the floor behind him, and his shirt hung loosely from his body. One knee was propped up while the other was bent underneath him. His thumb ran across his bottom lip as his eyes followed every move. Aragorn once again looked down at the ground trying to delay the inevitable.

"You want to tell me what happened?" Halbarad asked calmly. Aragorn ran his fingers over his bandaged hand, tracing the swollen joints.

"A tree bit my hand." He hoped that his deadpan tone would make Halbarad give up asking questions he had no right to ask. But his friend was determined, and a part of him was thankful for that.

"Very funny, my friend, but I think the tree may have done more than bite you." Halbarad took a deep breath. "Why, Aragorn?"

The use of his true name caused Aragorn to raise his eyes. Rarely did Halbarad ever speak that name. It was only Strider to the rangers. The few to know his real name the better. But the utterance of those syllables only proved to Aragorn how serious this conversation had become and exactly how long overdue it was. He couldn't keep up the charade anymore. He was tired of hiding. He squeezed his eyes shut to hold back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him as he opened his mouth to answer that question Halbarad most wanted to know.

"Because I killed my best friend, that's why!" His voice cracked at the end whether it was due to emotion or physical ailment, or a little of both.

"What are you talking about? Who?" Leaning forward, Halbarad put a hand under Aragorn's chin to stop him from retreating further.

"I-I can't…"

"Strider, look at me. Was it Legolas?" Aragorn was not surprised that he knew. On the contrary, his friendship with the elf was well known among his companions. But hearing that name sent a shiver down his back. He was shaking all over and his eyes began to glaze over as though in shock. Strong arms grabbed his shoulders to keep him from falling to the ground. It was like every muscle turned to jelly and would support him no longer. His chest ached once again, tearing his insides into misery. He ran away from Legolas. He hurt him so deeply, and there was nothing Aragorn could do about it.

"Strider? Strider, look at me." A gentle shake of his body pulled him out of his daze. It was like he awoke from a nightmare only to feel the tiredness in his body weighing down on him.

"Legolas saved me, Halbarad," he said distractedly staring at the far side of the tent. His grey eyes then turned to his friend. "He saved me and was captured by orcs. So much time passed while he was held captive. Me? I was safe and secure in my own bed. But we found him, Hal. We found him…or rather what was left of him. He was dying, don't you see? I had to leave. I couldn't stay and watch him leave me. Not without knowing…" Silent tears were running down his face. Halbarad wiped a few stray ones away.

"Without knowing what, my friend?"

"Without knowing that I was sorry. It was my fault. I should never have left him. Now I will never be able to tell him how much I love him. He's my brother in every way that counts. I can't live without him!"

Aragorn slumped into Halbarad's hold sobbing so hard that the older ranger feared he would hyperventilate. A whole year, carrying around a burden of guilt was destroying every bit of sanity that remained in Aragorn. He was running for so long trying to escape grief that he let it fester and grow until his whole world collapsed. Aragorn couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to stop the pain, to end his suffering but he just couldn't. He needed to hit something. Maybe that would help ground him. But his sobs grew louder and his body refused to allow him to move away from his friend's grasp.

After what seemed like hours, Aragorn final quieted down, though he hiccupped every now in then trying to draw in as much air in his oxygen-deprived lungs as possible. Pulling away, he leaned back on his knees and wiped his raw face.

"I'm sorry, Halbarad. I'm fine now. I should never have—"

"Don't, Aragorn. Let yourself grieve. It's alright to miss your friend. I'm worried about you, you know."

"It's okay now. I…I just miss him sometimes. I regret leaving him the way I did."

"Why not go back to Rivendell? Surely Elrond would welcome you home."

Aragorn shook his vehemently.

"No, I cannot return. I left of my own volition, against my father's warnings. I cannot face the shame."

"That's what this is about?" Halbarad asked sharply. "This is about pride?"

Aragorn stood up shakily, walking over to his travel bag lying in the corner of the tent. Halbarad's accusation was partly true, but he would never understand his real intentions. No one would. This loneliness was something Aragorn had feared when he rejoined the rangers. He hoped that it would never come to this but if he had to, then he would leave again…if only to escape the desperate feelings of need. He wanted his friend back. Legolas would have understood the unsaid. He would have seen through the front Aragorn was trying to hide behind.

"You're not leaving."

"I meant to move on months ago. Being here was only supposed to be temporary. I thank you for helping heal my injuries." After rolling up a blanket and stuffing it into his bag, Aragorn stood slinging the pack over his shoulder. He made a step to leave but the tent spun violently causing him to put a hand to his head. Halbarad was there in an instant easing him back down to his makeshift bed.

"I told you that you weren't leaving." The playful smile on his friend's lips almost made him believe that everything was right with the world again. Almost…

"Return home, Aragorn. Go home to your family."

"It's not that simple, Halbarad. It never was." With that Aragorn slowly drifted off into the world of unconsciousness.

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"NO!" A yell pierced the air echoing through the darkness. Night had fallen on the ranger camp only to be disturbed by a vicious nightmare. Aragorn was sitting up in his bed, breathing hard as sweat glistened on his forehead. His head ached terribly and he could barely hold himself upright. The adrenaline coursing through his veins was the only thing keeping him awake and aware. Another nightmare assaulted his mind while he tried to escape the world in blissful slumber. He slammed his uninjured fist into the ground beside him. Aragorn's tie to reality was fraying at the edges. Too many sleepless nights and unwanted dreams plaguing his guilt-ridden soul were weighing him down.

"I can't do this anymore!" He yelled to no one in particular.

"Do what, Estel?" asked an unexpected voice from the opening of the tent. A slender silhouette was outlined by a moonlit sky.

"Elrohir?" Aragorn shook his head thinking he might still be dreaming. Why would his brother be at the ranger's camp of all places? Elrond promised he wouldn't send anyone to look for him.

"The one and only," Elrohir replied, crossing his arms and stepping into the tent. "I hear you've been busy- slaughtering orcs and saving lives. Halbarad is starting to worry that you are showing signs of suicidal tendencies. From what he's told me, I'm worried too."

"Don't, Elrohir. It's none of anyone's business. And I'm not suicidal. I've just been overdoing it a little. I've got a lot on my mind as I'm sure you can understand."

He didn't want to fight with his brother, but Elrohir was stubborn when it came to him. He would never allow him to wallow. It was the elf's lighthearted nature that always pulled the family through in a crisis. Aragorn just wasn't sure he deserved to be saved this time.

"What are you doing here?"

"Trying to change the subject? Fine. _We_ came here to stop this nonsense and bring you home where you belong."

"We?"

"Elladan and I."

For some reason, Aragorn felt disappointed. Elrohir put a comforting hand on his slumping shoulders.

"It's okay, Estel. I know you were expecting someone else, but he wasn't ready to come."

Assuming that he meant their father, Aragorn merely nodded in understanding.

"I guess he would not be after the way I left. He said he understood, but I know that I hurt him. Ada is a strong elf but when it comes to his children, he can be quite vulnerable."

"Ada? I thought you'd be expecting Le—"

"Don't say that name to me, Elrohir. I can never hear it for the pain that it brings to my heart to know I will never see him again."

Realization dawned on the dark haired elf. He had expected his brother to still be holding onto the hope that Legolas was still alive. Elrond had implied as much, but he had underestimated the power of grief. His brother had truly been trying to bury the past even if it meant covering it up with lies to lessen his pain. Aragorn had told himself over and over that Legolas was far beyond his reach.

"Oh Estel, you really have lost hope to believe the voice of guilt. You have tortured yourself for a year believing your friend to be dead. But you are wrong, gwador nin. You are terribly mistaken. Legolas is alive, Estel," Elrohir said slowly grabbing his brother by the shoulders. "Legolas is alive in Rivendell and waiting for you."

Aragorn shook his vehemently. His heart was beating faster and he kept repeating the word, no, over and over again.

"Why would you lie to me, Elrohir? Why would you tell such devastating lies?" But his words betrayed his heart. He knew that his brother spoke the truth. Lying was never an option for Elrohir.

"You know me better than that, Estel. I would never give you false hope. I speak the truth. Legolas did not die. He lives, Estel. He's alive."

With those last words, Aragorn promptly threw up sickened by the news and what it implied. He was a monster for having left. He should have waited like Elrond had asked. But he was weak and retreated. And now his best friend was alive and well, probably hating him for having left when he gave so much just to save him.

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	4. A Father's Worries

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Oh my goodness! I am so sorry about the long delay in my updating. Student teaching, school, subbing, work, and life just came crashing down on me. I also lost my creative ingenuity in my novel, the characters stealing away any thought of my fanfiction. I plan to finish this so don't worry. I am going to work on this as much as possible. I promise! Thank you for the wonderful reviews and I hope you are still reading and enjoying it. Here's a new installment, short, but I really like this chapter. Enjoy!

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Elrond stood out on the balcony overlooking the raging falls. He watched the water crash and churn, as chaotic and uncontrollable as his emotions. He was anxiously gripping the railing, sending silent prayers to Illuvatar that Elladan and Elrohir would be able to bring their brother home. His heart ached in his chest at the prospect of Legolas leaving this world without his best friend ever having the chance to find closure. But despite the pain, he welcomed it. He knew what Aragorn was dealing with was much worse and that broke his heart even more. To know that his child was in pain, one he would gladly take on himself, was beyond anything imaginable.

"If you grip that railing any tighter, you might actually break it," a familiar voice commented.

Elrond allowed his hands to unclench the white banister as he pushed himself away from the edge.

"Any news of my sons, Glorfindel?" Elrond asked hopeful.

"You know as well as I, my friend, that you would be the first to know when they returned. As of now, it is their task to find Estel and bring him home. Unfortunately, no wishful thinking will change that."

"Iston. I know." Elrond closed his eyes and wiped a hand across his head wearily. "How fares Legolas?"

"He is…content for the time being. I have seen him smiling more often than not. But when he is alone…" Glorfindel trailed off.

"His eyes look to an unseen haven in the west," Elrond finished. He knew that look quite well in the final days of his wife's presence in Middle Earth. No amount of coaxing could change the fact that she was no longer the same woman he married. She had been forever altered by her experience. Not all wounds were visible and not all of them could be healed. That was a lesson he learned that day, and no matter how much he prayed, wished, and hoped, he could not help Legolas either.

"I know this brings up painful memories, but you have to accept what may come to pass."

Elrond leaned on the railing again, his strength suddenly leaving him.

"I know that," he muttered weakly.

"Part of you might, but the stronger part believes that Estel's presence will change everything and that he will give Legolas a reason to stay." Elrond's silence prompted Glorfindel to continue. "Do not be ashamed to have such hope, but be cautious. Too much hope can sometimes be more damaging than no hope at all."

Elrond smiled sadly bowing his head.

"You sound like Gandalf."

Glorfindel chuckled.

"He is a wise wizard. I'm flattered."

"Don't be. His riddles are maddening. I find my head aching from their possible implications. Like right now." Elrond brought one hand up to massage his temple.

"Are they getting worse?"

"They are nothing I cannot handle with a little meditation and some tea."

Glorfindel eyed him worriedly. Ever since they found Legolas beaten and battered, Elrond had developed chronic headaches. They started off as irritants and slowly grew into throbbing aches. He kept it secret from his children not wishing to worry them beyond their concern for Legolas, but Glorfindel discovered his secret when he found him collapsed over his desk in the study. From then on, his friend had kept an annoyingly close eye on him to make sure that the pain did not worsen. Elrond did not doubt that this was the very reason that Glorfindel was in his rooms right now.

A soft hand on his shoulder brought him out of his musings. Elrond looked up into concerned eyes.

"I'm sorry?"

"You need to rest, my friend. I fear that you are losing yourself in this worry for everyone that you have nothing left for yourself."

Elrond shrugged off the comforting hand and walked back into his rooms.

"I am fine, or at least, I will be when everything is settled. Elladan and Elrohir will return with Estel and we will move along from there. The future is unclear but at least there remains a glimmer of hope."

Elrond sat down behind his old, mahogany desk in the corner of the room and began taking notes from a remedy journal. Focusing his mind on other things also helped to alleviate the pain. Some say that it was denial, but Elrond liked to think of it as mind over matter. His ignorance towards his companion caused the feathered quill to be forcibly removed from his grasp.

"What do you want from me, Glorfindel?" the weary elf stood up in anger.

"I want you to stop pretending that everything is alright. You are stretched as thin as sewing thread with the same fragile tendency to break. These headaches are from stress. You are running yourself ragged trying to keep Legolas' spirits up, worrying about Estel, and trying to make your sons see reason in their brother's decision. You may be an elf and you may be immortal, but you are going to have one long, miserable existence if you do not take time to see to your own needs."

"And what would you have me do?" Elrond asked, not missing a beat. "Would you have me let Legolas wallow in his sea longing? Well, that would certainly be a solution. He would depart these shores in a few days, I'm sure. And Estel? Why worry about my son whose mind seems to be as broken as Legolas'? He is a grown adult after all so there's no reason for me to worry about him. Elladan and Elrohir do have their whole immortal lives to come to terms with Estel's decision. I'm sure with maturity, many years after their brother is dead, they will forgive him. I see your point, Glorfindel. I need to take time for myself because apparently, I am making my own stress by worrying about such trifle matters."

Elrond was breathing hard by the end of his tirade. His hands were clenched into fists. He was staring at his best friend who looked at him in shock. It was then he understood just how much his patience was worn. He could not even accept the concern of a friend without perceiving it as a threat. His shoulders drooped and he staggered back into his chair, falling onto it as though the weight of the world were resting on top of him.

"I'm sorry. I am so very sorry. There is no excuse for my behavior. It is not like me to lose my temper so quickly."

Glorfindel held up a hand to stop him from apologizing any further.

"Stop, Elrond. You are quite correct. This is not like you and that is precisely why I worry about your state. Headaches, tirades, anger…what is happening to you, my old friend?"

"I don't know anymore. It has been too much these last few days. It's like I am building a sandcastle beside the ocean. I am desperately trying to hold everything together, but the ocean just keeps crashing on top of me destroying what I've built, bit by bit. I have been trying to hold everyone else together that I find myself unraveling. These are difficult times we find ourselves in. I just do not seem prepared to face them."

"You are," Glorfindel said, walking around the desk. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder and this time, Elrond let it remain. "We all are. We just need time to adjust to what is happening. The future is unknown to everyone and that is what is most frightening. We cannot see if the sun will shine through or if despair will linger. You have been coping the best out of everyone but you need to let yourself have time to feel and to understand what and why things are happening. Otherwise, you may find yourself overwhelmed by the need to make everyone else happy while you yourself suffer."

Elrond let the words sink in a moment before taking a deep breath. He felt a little lighter, sharing his burden, but he knew that he would never feel like himself until his family was whole again. But for now, he could live with it.

"When did you become so wise?" Elrond asked, trying to lighten the mood and lift his own heavy feelings.

"I have always been so."

"Why have I not been aware of it?"

"Perhaps you weren't listening."

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